To Bend a Will
by BreakInCaseOfEmergency
Summary: The last thing Alimili Redril wants to do, is kill a dragon, yet the Dragonborn finds herself torn between her protective duties, and her admiration. In search of knowledge she turns to the Daedric Prince Hermaeus Mora in a desperate bid to try and save the lives of the dragons she feels so connected to all the while stopping their reign of terror in Skyrim. F!DB. Rated T for now!
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Hello and welcome to my first Skyrim fanfiction! I hope that you enjoy it, and please leave me a review if you have time to let me know what you would like to improve in the story – or you know, leaving praise is nice too ;D**_

_**I don't own Skyrim, only my OC. A big thank you to my beta nefieslab for reading through the chapter for me :D**_

Today began like any other day in the city of Windhelm. Stench of rotten fish and damp wood seeps through the walls of the city, giving the customary wake up call to the residents who have no doubt become so accustomed to it they barely realise there is any scent at all. Icy blasts of wind chill those brave enough to venture out in the early morn, the air in the city not yet warmed by the hustle and bustle of those going about their business.

Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak sits upon his throne in the Palace of Kings, ready for another day where his Stormcloak brothers and sisters would fall to the swords of Imperial men, but ready to take another step forwards in winning the war despite the losses that would occur. It is the only way to make sure that the land of Skyrim would be free from the clutches of the Empire once more. Those who fight for him know the risks, they go willingly to fight for the independence of their nation. At least, this is what he reminds himself every morning – despite knowing that his path is the right one, sending brothers and sisters in arms to their deaths weighs heavily on his mind.

Left to dwell in his thoughts, at least until Galmar woke, Ulfric set his steel gaze on the long table in front of his throne and waited. He can tell that there is something in the air this morning. It creeps along like a treacherous smog, making a weight on his chest that even the deepest of breath cannot clear. This feeling could only signal one thing to the Stormcloak leader and it lead to him ordering the guard around the town to be doubled for the duration of today. If the Imperials were going to attack, which if this sensation was correct – they would, Ulfric would be ready for them. Smirking confidently, trusting in the gut feeling he had, Ulfric sprawls his legs upon the steps around his throne and feels ready to face the day.

The only one now ready to face the day is not only Ulfric, but the majority of Windhelm – including Almili Redril. After bathing and brushing her hair, putting on her day dress and eating her breakfast the Dunmer was ready to set about buying a few things from Sadri's Used Wares. As she slipped her cloak onto her shoulders to shield her somewhat from the winters chill, she rolls her eyes and trudges back to her strongbox. Yet again she'd almost left home without her necklace, Alimili found that she gets a much fairer bargain whenever she wears it. Very useful when you were going shopping. Gently she tugs the handle of her front door open, and braces herself against the cool breeze that hit her as she steps outside, with a swift turn of her key the door is locked and she steps out onto the pathway leading her to Sadri's shop.

Frowning softly, Alimili looks up into the misty white sky and hums. There was something off today and she couldn't put her finger on what it is, perhaps she forgot something she was supposed to do? It wouldn't surprise her – Dondal always told her that she would forget her ears if they weren't attached. A soft smile tugged at her lips as she wanders down the street, nodding her head at a few acquaintances as they passed. Alimili's time at the New Gnisis Cornerclub meant she got to know a fair few of the residents around Windhelm.

Approaching the shop, she smiles slightly wider as she enters at the sight of her friend Sadri. She came here every week to buy a few supplies, and even on occasion a few treats for herself so they had gotten to know each other pretty well.

"Hello again Alimili, a pleasure to see you as always." He states with a small smirk.

"Nice to see you too Sadri." She grins back, placing her little wicker basket on the counter top, while removing her list to see what she needed to buy "Are you keeping well?"

"Can't complain, what can I get you this time around?" Sadri asks with a melodic hum to his voice.

"Well I need a common sou-"

Unable to finish her sentence, Alimili's jaw pops open and her eyes involuntary widen. There had been the most horrible sound, like a rush of wind only much more powerful, much more concentrated followed by a roaring sound. Both of the elves could hear rushing feet and screams. This is enough for Sadri to begin gathering up whatever money and jewels he has lying about in case the Imperials have finally come to attack Windhelm – he did not want to lose what little money he has left. A deafening roar pierces the air and Alimili jumps, knocked from her shock by the sound. She needs to get out of here, they both do!

"Come on Alimili, the Imperials must be storming the city, we need to get out of here." Sadri stated firmly, gripping her hand and keeping her in tow with him while this situation continued. Leaving her in his shop when whatever is happening outside was a danger to her is not an option.

The door to the shop was flung open and both elves stepped out onto the scene. What meets their eyes is utter devastation.

The Grey Quarter…engulfed in flames.

Alimili frantically looks back the way she came, deeper into the district to see if she can catch a glimpse of her own home, to see whether it too is caught in the blaze but the smoke plumed in front of her vision and before she could look once more, Sadri whisked her further out of danger.

All around her Dunmer ran screaming from the flames as they jumped and rushed from building to building, there were a few men trying to quench the thirst of the flames but to no avail. Their efforts seem only to be squashed a few moments later, when the breeze carries the fire over to another building. The whole quarter would be decimated if they didn't receive any help. Where were the guards? Alimili knew that Nords had a hatred of elves, simply because of the Thalmor Embassy but, she did not know that they would merely stand by and watch as the Grey Quarter burns to cinders.

She can hear the cries for help from some of the houses, there were still people trapped inside! There has to be something that she could do to rescue them, she could not just stand by and let them die. Alimili attempts to pull her hand from Sadri's grasp, but the frantic look in his eyes strikes deep within her.

"There's nothing we can do." He cries over the roar of the flames "We have to get to safety."

"But…the peopl-"

"There is _nothing _ we can do Alimili!" Sadri bellows "Now come with me!"

Continuing to run up to the Stone Quarter, clashes of metal on bone and such a fierce roar could be heard more clearly. What in the name of the eight is this? As both of the elves emerged onto the scene, Alimili's eyes took in one of the most beautiful things that she could recall seeing in her twenty years on Nirn.

A real, live, dragon.

Right smack dab in the middle of the entrance way to Windhelm, exactly how she had imagined they would look – filled with such a raw power it amazes her to see. A glimmer forms in her eyes as she continues to be captivated by the creature, but the way in which the guards hack and stab at it makes it disappear. Of course, it has to die. It had destroyed her home, and the rest of the Grey Quarter along with it. It just seems, too horrible a thing for her to ever have to watch.

Amongst those fighting, she could see Jarl Ulfric. A part of her couldn't believe that he would come out of the safety of the Palace of the Kings in order to protect the city of Windhelm after all the things that her Dunmer kin had been saying about him. Maybe they were wrong, are wrong. Would he be out here risking his life if he did not care for all in his city? Sadri deems it wise, no matter how enthralled Alimili seems to be by the dragon, that they should seek refuge behind a large stone wall from the flames. Moving with him, as if in a daze, Alimili places a hand over her chest just to feel the violent pulses of her heart, ripe with exhilaration. The roars and bellows of the dragon seem to speak to her, and on some level, she could sense the emotion behind those sounds – of course, the thought is ridiculous, merely the products of too much adrenaline flooding her system.

"Alimili? Are you quite alright? There's no need to be afraid, the guards have almost killed the beast." Sadri reassured, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Whipping her head around to almost glare at Sadri for daring to say such a thing, Alimili realises her mistake and immediately softens her gaze. Why did she feel such an admiration to the winged creature? Surely the guards, Sadri or the Jarl do not think of it as a beautiful creature but she does, for a reason lost upon her.

"I am not afraid." She murmurs in reply, her features quite calm and her voice sedate despite the sounds of hacking and slashing from just around the corner.

"Indeed it seems not." He smirked, sometimes he found himself at a loss when it came to this woman, by rights any female, any male for that matter would be terrified when coming face to face with a dragon but not her.

Eventually there came a thunderous roar, and the heat in the air around the Stone Quarter lessened, the thick steam coming from the fight began to dissipate until it became safe enough for Sadri and Alimili to creep around the corner to see what had become of the dragon. Bodies litter the ground, burnt, charred, the metal of their armour melted onto their forms the heat of the dragon had been that great. The Jarl stood panting, red of face, and shaking from exertion but very much alive which made the people cheer.

Something happened then, that nobody could expect. A white light glows around the corpse of the dragon, a sound like the rushing of the wind filled the courtyard as the mysterious white light lifts from the deceased dragon and rushes toward…Alimilli. Her eyes grow wide with fright as the unknown force buffets into her, but as her eyes close and a sensation of warmth fills her body she feels that sensation of admiration, of beauty and strangely…of kinship that she had felt when she had watched the fight between the dragon and the guards. Although not understood, the feeling running through her amazes her, yet all too soon the light fades completely, and so do the emotions that flooded with it. Fluttering her eyes open, Alimili could see that the whole squares eyes are upon her, the ice cool gaze of the Jarl too, and she takes the only course of action she thinks she should in that situation.

She runs.

Alimili thought for sure that she would be kidnapped by the Thalmor for questioning about such strange behaviour, either that or the Jarl would keep her in the Palace forever until she agreed to become some sort of warrior for the Stormcloak cause. Her, become a warrior? She thinks with a scoff, true Alimili is no stranger to a bow or dagger but holding a war axe charging into battle? Such a thing is beyond her. What frightened her to the core though, is the idea that they might capture her…and set her to kill other dragons. It was upsetting enough to watch the guards end the life of one of those creatures but to do it herself? Despite not having the skill, she also does not have the temperament.

Before she can even reach the end of the bridge leading into Windhelm Alimili is halted by the guards, apparently Jarl Ulfric calls for her presence in the Palace of Kings. Gulping softly she closes her eyes and casts them down to the floor as she is marched back into the city. Murmurs erupt all around her and she dares to move her gaze from the cobbled floor.

'_Could it be?'_

'No she can't be…'

'**You saw what happened, she absorbed its soul!'**

'I thought they had to be male…and a Nord.'

What on earth were they talking about? She asks herself, what did they think she was? Fortunately she manages to catch Sadri's gaze which despite being somewhat strained, sends a reassuring sort of smile her way and mouths;

'It's alright.'

Slowly, Alimili shuffles into the Palace of the Kings, her heart thrumming with anxiety as she is left in front of the throne. Jarl Ulfric sits straight upon the chair for a change, and steeples his fingers when he sees her approach. This is most unusual, for he like all of the others in the city thought that if this day, if this person, were to come, they would be male, and they would be a Nord. How could this tiny slip of a Dunmer possibly be them? The nerves are showing on her face even now, she would surely run like a helpless rabbit if she ever fights a dragon for herself.

"Relax woman. Tell me what is your name?" he asks in his typical, gruff manner.

"I am Alimili Redril, my Jarl."

"Do you know why you are here, Redril?"

"N-no sir I confess I do not."

"Do you not know what it was that occurred to you mere minutes ago?" Ulfric asks harshly, his anger growing at the ignorance she has of the situation "You absorbed a dragons soul."

"What?" she gulped, of course she heard tales in her youth of people who could do this, those blessed by the Divine Akatosh but…that she would ever actually be.

"You are dragonborn." The Jarl states, his tone resolute, his gaze unwavering, and at this moment, they both know that the whole province of Skyrim is about to be shaken to its core.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Authors Note:**_

_**Hello there! I hope you're enjoying my story, I of course do not own Skyrim that's all Bethesda the only thing I own is my OC Alimili. Please take the time to review if you enjoy the story, even if you don't let me know what you'd like me to improve :D**_

_**Thanks very much to my beta nefieslab for looking over the chapter for me.**_

Murmurs fill the hall, making the thoughts in Alimili's head scatter completely as she tries to grasp them to make some sort of order, some sort of sense. How could she be dragonborn? As far as she knew they had always had some connection to a Nord family. True she had not asked her father about her heritage, she didn't think she needed to. Could it be possible House Redril has some sort of connection to the sons of Skyrim? Whatever reason for her being dragonborn does not change the fact that is what she is.

Ulfric can see the utter confusion on her features, the gentle crinkle in her brow as she worries. Sighing he stands from his throne and beckons for the elf to follow him into the map room, they would need to speak in private about what the next steps would be for her. The elf obviously has no knowledge of the legends of Skyrim, he thinks with a heavy heart. After all these years, finally a new dragonborn appears and they are completely different to not only the imaginings he had as a child, but the hopes that he has as a leader and a grown man. Regardless of whether or not she is male, or of their race, this woman is instrumental in making Skyrim safe for all of the inhabitants and should therefore be trained and ready for such eventualities.

Pausing by the large map table, Ulfric simply waves his hand in dismissal and the soldiers occupying the room all filter out leaving the two alone. Restless eyes wander around the weapons hung on the wall, and Alimili wonders whether she will have to take up arms against not only dragons, but other sentient beings along her new path. Hunting game she is proficient at, but can she translate those skills to killing human beings? Her elf brothers and sisters? Of course she can, but does she necessarily want to?

Lost in her thoughts, she is drawn back to the situation at hand by a short cough from Ulfric.

"Do you know anything about what it means to be dragonborn?" he asks, his eyes furrowed, seemingly in displeasure which causes Alimili to gulp softly while she considers the best answer she can give.

"I know that dragonborn have the blood of dragons in their veins, the Divine Akatosh created them. They can understand the dragon language and can use it themselves." She stated, trying her best to sound as confident as possible, but really she felt as if she was a school girl again, being lectured for giving the incorrect answer to a problem.

This seems to momentarily please Ulfric and he nods, placing both of his hands on the map table, and leaning upon them heavily; "This is correct. There are others who can learn the dragon language, I have mastered a select few words I can use in battle – but I am not the teaching kind. You will need to visit the Greybeards in High Hrothgar that is where I studied. They will help you to control your shouts."

"My shouts?" Alimili asks, her eyes wide and unsure – there seems to be so much that she doesn't know about who she is now, but these Greybeards seem to hold most of the answers for her. It is imperative that she visits them in order to better understand what is expected of her.

"Yes, the dragon language manifests itself as effects such as fire or frost. When you speak the dragon language you too will produce those effects, which we in Skyrim call shouts." Raising one hand to pinch and massage the bridge of his nose, she can see that her questions are irking the Jarl and immediately believes to have overstepped her mark in the conversation. Remaining quiet, she waited upon his next instruction "High Hrothgar can only be reached by the seven thousand steps, beginning by the village of Ivarstead. I suggest you head there immediately."

As he takes one of the many folded maps of Skyrim, Ulfric dips a nearby quill into ink and marks upon it the best route for her to take to get to the village, before folding up the map once more and handing it to her with a small sigh of frustration.

"I have marked the best way for you to reach Ivarstead. You should arrive there within a few days, a week at most." He lowers his gaze in order to meet Alimili's eyes, and gives her a firm nod "May the nine guide you dragonborn, I hope to see you return and join our fight for Skyrim when you have received the Greybeards teaching."

Alimili, still slightly numb with the shock merely gives a shaky smile, and swiftly turns on her heel to walk out of the Palace. The route seemed simple enough and she noted that Jarl Ulfric had steered her clear of many bandit filled ruins and towers, such a kind gesture makes her smile seem more firm and genuine. All around Windhelm she could hear talk of her, it is unnerving at first but slowly Alimili grows to enjoy it, it makes her feel like some sort of celebrity whereas before she had been well, nobody really.

What is she to do though? With no weapons save her small personal dagger, Alimili is in no shape to be running across the tundra of Skyrim to the Throat of the World. Sighing softly she turns down to the Grey Quarter and sees a mass of her Dunmer sisters and brothers standing by the burnt out husk of her home. Are they waiting for her? When she approaches they spot her and the familiar face of Sadri pushes to the front of the group, a rather unfamiliar grin on his features.

"Well I never. The next dragonborn, one of our own." The closest Dunmer, whom she has never actually met, jubilates clasping her upon the shoulder and handing her a rather large health potion "Here please take this, may it aid you on your adventures sister."

Following this nearly all of her kin surge forwards to give her messages of congratulations, blessings of health and wisdom but also many items to aid her on her journey which no matter how hard she tries to give back none will relent in their offering. Soon she has: two iron swords; a hunting bow with steel arrows; an elven dagger; no less than eight healing potions, 6 magika potions and a large draft of stamina potion; combined with a hefty coin purse holding at least 200 gold. Never has she felt so privileged, so blessed in fact that all of her brothers and sisters would come to her in her time of need to aid her along her way. Alimili never expected such a thing, and she certainly would never have asked for all of these gifts. Her heart swelled with this sensation of belonging. Since emigrating from Morrowind Dunmer have been placed wherever they might fit, never really having one home any more, but it is this kinship, the ties between them that make the Grey Quarter home for her. She would never forget the kindness that they had shown her.

Despite seeing him first off, Sadri only steps towards her now, his grin very much diminished from what it had been beforehand.

"Congratulations Alimili, or should I call you dragonborn?" he asks with a small smirk "I suppose you will be leaving Windhelm soon to begin your great adventures?"

"It appears so, the Jarl has said I need to journey to Ivarstead, in order to climb the seven thousand steps to High Hrothgar. The Greybeards will help me understand what it means to be dragonborn, at least, that is what he said." She informs with a soft smile on her lips, it saddens her to think this is the last time she will see Sadri for a long while, several weeks if not a month or two.

"I see…well, like so many others I have gifts for you." Sadri states with a strained tone to his voice, present for only a few seconds but, noticeable all the same. Drawing from his pocket, he holds out a ring which glistens slightly green in the afternoon sun "It is a ring of enhanced sneaking. I would much rather you hide from something than be hurt by it so, this should help to keep you safe."

Very gently Alimili takes the ring from his hand and slips it onto her middle finger, it fits perfectly and she can't help but beam at her friend. Such a wonderful gift, and so thoughtful as well, the desire to keep her safe even though he might not accompany her himself is sweet to her. The sadness at leaving this place only grows heavier in her chest as the conversation continues.

"Thank you my friend, such a thoughtful gift. I shall make sure to put it to good use hiding in dark corners." She grins, but it falters when she sees him bringing out another gift, the ring alone is worth a lot of money how could she possibly accept another? "Sadri you have already given me such an expensive gift, you can't mean to give another?"

"I will feel much better, knowing that you can protect yourself while you're on your adventures. Much more likely you will come back and visit me again someday if that's the case, hm? This Imperial bow is enchanted with flames, there are…many frost trolls high on those mountains. It should help."

Not wanting to offend her friend, she hesitantly takes the bow from him, strapping it to her back to be her preferred weapon – it is much more powerful than her other bows that is for sure.

All of a sudden, the gravity of the situation crashes down around her, despite her new found power the dangers she would face are very real. It may be possible that she might not return. Dismissing (as much as she could) those thoughts from her mind, Alimili attempts to focus on the positives, on the training that the Greybeards will provide for her. Gulping softly, she wraps her arms around Sadri in a desperate embrace, fighting the urge to merely run away and hide in the charred remains of her home from her newfound responsibility. Eventually they part, both accepting that there is nothing either can do to change the situation at hand.

"Farewell Sadri." Alimili whispers, her voice strained as she half turns away, ready to exit the gates of Windhelm.

"Farewell sister." He returns, his voice much the same, as he too turns away making his journey back to his shop to see what he might be able to salvage from the wreckage.

Resolved with a deep breath, Alimili turns fully and treks to the main gate, pushing it gently to reveal the large stone bridge that lead up to Windhelm. Keeping a steady mind on her plan, she swiftly marches towards the stables at the end of the bridge, the walk seemingly taking much longer now that she feels the desire to turn back and run into the safety of her city with every step.

What peaks her attention is a selection of Stormcloak soldiers huddled together while patrolling the bridge, moving slightly closer she can hear them talking – about the 'so called dragonborn'. Hurt flares on her features as she listens to them, they think that she is some sort of fraud? Each man discusses in turn how she is a liar, how she is besmirching the Nord legend of the dragonborn, and how it must be related to some hidden 'elf agenda'. Biting her tongue she continues on her way at a swift pace, trying to ignore the anger flaring inside of her being that they would dare say such things about her – she had been living in their city most of her life and they slander her as soon as she challenges one of their beliefs? A spike of pain runs through her as she grits her teeth to keep her hot words inside of her.

Now reaching the stables at the end of the bridge, Alimili takes in a deep breath to try and calm herself before negotiating with the carriage driver to be taken to Whiterun. It is a fair way away but the price for the journey isn't as high as she expected. Smoothly she climbs into the carriage, while she listens to the tales of the driver all of the way to Whiterun, the words of those soldiers still bubbling within her mind.

By the evening of the day she arrives at Whiterun, and seeks to hot foot it to Riverrun before heading over to Ivarstead in order to begin her ascent of the steps in the morning time the following day. Consulting her map, she walks back along the cobbled road, enjoying the safety she felt with the guards monitoring the pathway for during her journey here there had been wolves and even a sabre cat they had to fight in order to arrive safely. The roads and paths seem so much more dangerous than they were when she last travelled but when she left the borders of Whiterun she would be quite on her own.

Eventually Alimili reaches the stone bridge and turns right, heading up the dirt path towards Riverrun, taking out her enchanted bow in case she came upon some wolves along the way. Pace growing to a fast jog she can see the village in the distance approaching it with a lighter heart now that she is that much closer to finishing her journey for the day. Only a lone wolf prevents her from reaching the village, but a swift shot from her bow ends its life with a brilliant spurt of crimson, with bent knee Alimili skins the animal and places the hide within her pack. _It might fetch some gold_, she thinks with a bright smile, _this whole adventuring lark might not be so bad_. Crossing the bridge to Riverrun, she sees that the temptation of delaying by shopping is no longer there, everything is already closed for the day.

It will take about an hour to reach Ivarstead, and so Alimili doubles her pace travelling at a swift run while her energy would allow her. Sneaking by North Watch Tower, to avoid the bandits that lie within, she is glad to be able to evade detection being in no shape to fight at this time of night. A tiredness sweeps through her, but a grim determination is set in her features to get to Ivarstead all the quicker to swifter sink into a bed for the night and enjoy some hot food.

A few wolves later Alimili nurses their claw marks on her forearms as she approaches Ivarstead. Amazingly she has made it through the wilderness of Skyrim relatively unscathed, what better reward for her now than a warm bed and some lovely food? Timidly she searches for the inn within the small village and can't help but enjoy the quaintness of the place, it is so different from Windhelm but more beautiful in her own opinion. Vilemyr Inn is just as small as the rest of the town and quiet too, the owner seems so eager to take her coin she assumes that the business must be in trouble.

Tomorrow she would ask more about it, when she isn't so close to collapse.

Removing her pack and leather armour, Alimili flops down onto the bed and eagerly pulls the furs over herself. The tiredness present in her body helps her fight the million questions, fears and doubts running through her about the journey to High Hrothgar tomorrow. Would the Greybeards be willing to teach her? What would they teach her if they were? Where would she go when she was finished? How long would she be there? As she extinguishes the light, and lets the gentle darkness rest on her, those queries fade from her mind and she lets sleep take her.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Hello! Thank you very much xXThe mirror tells me LIESXx for your review it's helped me to motivate myself in order to get this chapter out! More reviews are always welcome if you have time. **_

_**Please note, I might on occasion skip the travelling part of Alimili's journey, simply because I think it's better to get straight into some action! I only own my OC, and once again thank you to my beta nefieslab for looking this chapter over, with that said, enjoy!**_

The journey has been long, and arduous up the seven thousand steps but now Alimili can see she is reaching the end of her trek. The large stone structure of High Hrothgar looms overhead and for a moment she is awed by such a building, how it has survived the buffeting snow storms for so long up on these heights. But if there was one thing the Nords knew how to do it was surviving the cold – why should their structures be any different?

With one last heave of effort she begins to ascend the final steps, bringing the small sack of supplies she had taken from the man in Ivarstead out of her pack to place within the large empty chest at the foot of the building. It always leaves her with a good feeling to help people she meets along the road so she was all too happy to take the goods up the steps for him.

On her way she had met with many trials, Alimili glances down at her slashed pack and recalls with a shiver the frost troll she faced on the ascent. The health potions and Sadri's bow were the only reason she is still alive right now, but the experience has left her still with a gleaming sense of accomplishment. She is getting stronger and more experienced with each danger she faces, and despite the pain she felt under the creatures attack, Alimili is extremely glad that she came across it. Already the bow feels more natural in her grip, and she more sure in her shots.

Opening the door to High Hrothgar the wave of warmth hits her immediately and Alimili sighs happily disregarding the little bit of pain she feels at the sudden warmth on her icy cold skin. Almost as soon as she steps two feet inside, a wizened old gentleman step forwards to greet her. Immediately she can sense the hum of power within the room, within the building, and Alimili feels intensely humbled that she will be learning from such masters of her craft.

Crinkled blue eyes lock onto her and Argneir inhales sharply, after all of these years, another dragonborn has finally come to the halls of the Greybeards. Maybe this one would stay true to the way of the voice, and not be persuaded to violence by the Blades? There is a hope, but he is hesitant to say it is a very strong one.

"Welcome to the halls of High Hrothgar, I am Master Argneir what business brings you here?" he asks, his voice a low rumble.

"I uhm I am Alimili Redril…Jarl Ulfric instructed me to seek your council, he says that I am Dragonborn, and you will be able to train me, and to tell me more about what I must do now that my power has been released." Alimili tries to be confident, but her initial hesitation is noted by Argneir.

"We shall see if you are truly Dragonborn, demonstrate to us the power of your shout."

Alimili's mouth pops open slightly, true she has absorbed a dragons soul but she has never shouted before, how on Nirn did you even begin to go about shouting? Perhaps it is just something innate within her that would happen on its own when she tried to speak? As if her uncertainty is a large fireball rotating around her head, Argneir undoubtedly notices and with a polite cough draws her attention from her worries.

"Have you never shouted before child?" he inquires with a kindly smile "If not then allow me to help you understand slightly more, I am not surprised that Ulfric Stormcloak did not explain the nature of your new power to you well enough."

"Thank you Master Argneir. There was a dragon attack, in Windhelm, and when the guards finally managed to kill the beast I have been told that its soul entered my body, I absorbed it." Alimili fills in more information, so that perhaps Master Argneir might be able to help her slightly more, perhaps he can tell her more about the power the soul she absorbed held?

Gesturing for her to enter further into the warmth of the stone room, Argneir feels the need to sigh in frustration. It is obvious to him now that this young Dunmer has been left without a complete explanation of her power and sent to a place on a dangerous route without any sort of guidance. There is no wonder that she has questions which need addressing. With a scowl on his features, Argneir tries to distract himself from the dishonour that the Stormcloak continues to bring to the Way of the Voice.

"When you absorb a dragons soul, you absorb part of its understanding of the dragon language. When you encounter these words written down you can understand them as well as the dragon you slew could. The more souls of dragons you take, the more words you can understand and use. These words, we call a Thu'um, or Shout." He explains, as simply as he can.

"Where are these dragon words written?" Alimili asks with a soft frown

"They are found in many places, those with the understanding of the dragon language can imprint the words upon stone. You will see many of these words around Skyrim, on dragon burial mounds, and in Barrows especially."

Unable to stop her disappointment, Alimili realises that she would not be able to shout, seeing as she has never seen one of these walls much less on her way to High Hrothgar – therefore she would not able to prove herself to the Greybeards. Not only that but, in order to understand more of the dragon language she has to absorb dragon souls? Biting her lip softly, she worries it between her teeth, the exact thing she does not want to do seems to be her destiny. The death of the dragon in Windhelm, despite being needed is something which still invokes pangs of pain in her heart. Does such a powerful, almost graceful creature have to die? Is there no other way? Master Argneir seems to be the best person to ask about such a matter.

"What if I feel no desire to kill a dragon?" she asks, almost blurting out the question so that she cannot convince herself not to ask it at all.

The look of shock on Argneir's face is enough to make her feel suitably ashamed of her question, before he smiles once again and slips his hands inside the long sleeves of his robe. Apparently her question is not as stupid as she first thought that it might be.

"Dragons are dangerous creatures Dovahkiin, and although sometimes it might be necessary to kill a dragon in order to preserve the lives and safety of the people of Skyrim we do not promote the Thu'um be used in a combative manner. The Way of the Voice is peaceful, the Greybeards only seek to use the Thu'um in worship to the Gods." He informed, with a slightly warmer tone to his voice if she is not mistaken which leads to the weight upon Alimili's shoulders to decrease ever so slightly once more.

"Is there no way that I could merely speak to the dragon in their language and ask for them to stop whatever they are doing?" she asks again, desperate to know more about the non-violent way that the Greybeards look at the power of the shouts she has come to understand "To simply bend their will to my own?"

"There are many words in the dragon language." Master Argneir states with a small frown "It could be possible that a combination of these would result in that effect but I am not aware of such a shout myself. I would suggest looking in other places for such information, and I will inform you of these places shortly, but only after you prove that you are in fact the Dragonborn. If you can, recall the slaying of the dragon, the absorption of its soul, see if you can pick up on a word from its essence, and then use that essence to understand it."

The thrill of new knowledge, and motivation to learn her first shout made Alimili all too eager to cast her mind back to the dragon fight, she closes her eyes and concentrates, did she pick up on something that the dragon had said that she just didn't know yet? Filtering through the odd whispering which she heard as the soul flooded into her body, Alimili hears one, definite word. Believing it to be a made up word when she first heard it, now she concentrates and tries to use the soul of the dragon to understand its last word;

"STRUN!"

Letting the word rip free from her lips Alimili barks it loud and confident for the Greybeards to hear, unsure of what the shout would actually do, she feels immense relief at the fact she could shout in the first place instead of standing there mute. After a few seconds a sense of unease creeps into her bones, maybe she has done it incorrectly nothing has happened? Then, a thunderous crack tears through the air, the force connects with the very stones of High Hrothgar and sends the building shaking around them. Rushing out with the Greybeards into what appears like a snow filled courtyard, Alimili turns to the structure of the temple to see what has happened but all that is visible is a large smouldering patch of black stone sitting nearly at the top of the temple itself.

"Will you show us your Thu'um once more Dovahkiin?" Master Argneir asks, his face ashen as he gazes at the top of the temple.

"As you wish Master Argneir." Alimili nods, hammering against her ribs her heart threatens to break free, what if she hurts one of the Greybeards with her shout? What if she so happens to destroy the temple around her? Despite her worries, the stern nod from Master Argneir steels her resolve and once again her voice fills the air with a crackling power "Strun!"

One.

Two.

Three…three seconds is all it takes to see the effect that her shout has. A thick bolt of lightning falls from the sky, hurtling towards the mountainside whereupon it strikes, sending a vicious crack throughout the courtyard and the mountain below. Large chunks of rock, charred black with the heat of the electricity are sent rolling down the side of the mountain towards the steps and paths below.

Shock filters through Alimili's system as she sees the devastation that she herself has caused. Should she be afraid of the power that she can wield now? Should she be proud that her voice can produce such an effect on the environment around her? A steady hand places itself on her shoulder, which jolts her immediately, before she can pull away she realises it is only Master Argneir who looks as astounded as she.

"Your mastery of the Thu'um is astounding, to be able to learn and use a new shout in such a small amount of time is quite extraordinary." He compliments, gleaning a soft blush from Alimili.

"That word, it means storm doesn't it? I'm just glad that nobody got hurt." She states with a soft sigh "Now that I have proven myself to be the Dragonborn, will you tell me where I might look for the words to a shout like the one I was asking about before?" she asks with a bright expectant smile on her lips which shakes Argneir's resolve to try and keep her off such a dangerous path.

"Finding these words of power will not be easy, the Greybeards are the most adept in knowledge of the Thu'um and even we are not certain what words will be needed to produce such an effect." He informs, but at her set expression merely sighs and nods his head "I would suggest that you first direct your attention to the College of Winterhold's library, there are ancient tomes there which may hold some information. In the meanwhile, I will speak with my fellow monks and we may have another outlet you can try when you return."

Despite the cryptic nature of the last comment, Alimili feels an overwhelming sensation of joy, not only has she been accepted by the Greybeards, she now has somewhere she can go in order to find the words of power she so badly needs to know. The College of Winterhold is a place she has always been meaning to visit, to develop her talents as a mage, an enchantress in fact as well, now her quest is leading her there. It seems almost perfect. _What could Master Argneir mean about speaking to the rest of the Greybeards however? _Alimili wonders, a slight frown pulling at her features. _Maybe it is a guarded secret of the order that they might not trust me with just yet?_ Deciding that must be the case, Alimili makes her way inside of the temple again only to find that her time at High Hrothgar is not quite over yet.

"We have much to teach you Dragonborn, will you stay at the Temple tonight so that we might pass onto you more knowledge of the Thu'um so you are better prepared for your journey ahead?" Argneir asks, although Alimili could sense that it is not so much of a question as a fierce recommendation. Besides, she would be an idiot to not receive more training, anything that could help her in her journey she would appreciate.

"Yes I would enjoy that, thank you Master Argneir for you advice, and for your training. I am unsure how can you teach me more Thu'um however, I do not have any more dragon souls to understand the words." Alimili stated, wondering if they thought she would have more.

Gesturing for her to come into the center of the room, Argneir fixed Alimili once more with those warm blue eyes and merely smiles once more;

"Let us start with the first word of the 'unrelenting force shout'"

Two hours later Alimili crawls into one of the spare beds within the monastery and she, despite being exhausted feels the best she has done in a long while. Laying on her back, her eyes staring up at the cold stone of the roof above her, the sensation of pride washes through her body. How could she not be proud? In a mere two hours she has learnt the first two words of unrelenting force 'Fus ro'; the first word of whirlwind sprint 'Wuld'; and the word 'Bex' which would help her to open doors which are locked or barred. Now, for the first time since she left Windhelm, Alimili is excited about the path that she has been set on, knowing that there may be another way to stop the dragons and having a full understanding of what it is that has happened to her.

Pulling the furs up around her, she sighs contentedly, ready to get as much sleep as possible before her long trip to the College of Winterhold in the morning time.


End file.
